


Devil in Disguise

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Slash, Series, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story #3 in the Elvis Collection.  Blair tries to conceal his heartbreak, but Jim notices and is compelled to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil in Disguise

## Devil in Disguise

by Dante

The Sentinel was created by Bilson and DeMeo. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks to Ms Tilford for her kind words of encouragement. And to Alyjude.

Still angsty, but the boys are getting closer.

This story is a sequel to: Always on My Mind 

* * *

"Chief? You okay?" 

Dark and creepy. 'That's my world,' Blair thought as he gazed out the passenger window. He shivered then jerked as a hand touched his arm. 

"Sorry," Jim apologized when Blair turned his startled countenance his way. "I didn't mean to scare you." 

"Jim," Blair blinked as if noticing his companion for the first time. Quite amusing, really, as said companion was driving. Blair allowed that thought to drift, unable to actually smile. There was really nothing to smile at these days. Finally, he waved in the vague direction of the darkness which encompassed them. "We're in a cemetery. Creepy." He shivered, remembering the reason they were at Cascade Cemetery. At three in the morning he wished he were in bed not among the dead. The dead. He shivered again. Creepy. So much for his vocabulary. Like everything else this week, it had gone to hell, too. It didn't matter. 'Creepy' seemed to do the trick. It was how he felt anyway. At least it was different from how he'd been feeling. Sadness and despair had been dogging him since his break up with Gary last week and trying to maintain his usual enthusiastic manner for Jim's sake was draining. Blair guessed he could add tired to his waning vocabulary. The only other feeling he could possible tack on to his sorry repertoire was his desire for Jim. That feeling, though, was so old it was as if he'd been born with it. So creepy was good. Well, not really. But it was different and that was good. It was a nice change. 

"Yeah, Chief, you're right. Not exactly a cheerful place, but your hunch about Clarkson was right on the money," Jim replied, seemingly out of nowhere. 

Blair's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Huh? What?" Had Jim been talking to him when he had been lost in his creepy thoughts? 

Jim glanced at him. "You said it was creepy. I was just agreeing with you." 

Blair's eyes narrowed as he searched his memory for the exact words of their present conversation. God, he was so pathetic. First, his lexicon seemed to have depleted itself of doing any actual good and now, he couldn't even track a normal conversation. "Oh, yeah." Understanding dawned and he cracked a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 

With a sigh, Jim pulled the truck over to the curb and turned off the engine. He could count the number of times Blair had smiled this week. And when he had, Jim could not detect its usual brilliance. Blair's smile had dimmed completely as if the wattage were low. In fact, Sandburg had been way too quiet as of late, subdued. Gone was the sparkle in his eyes, gone was the bounce. It hurt Jim to see him like this, which brought him back to his original question. 

"Chief? You okay?" Jim turned in his seat to gaze in concern at the man sitting next to him. 

"We caught the bad guys," Blair returned, distracted. Jim had stopped the truck and Blair wondered why. They had already spent too much time in the cemetery and he wanted to leave. Home was where he wanted to be. The suggestion to get going was on his lips when his partner spoke. 

"I know we did, Sandburg." Jim was slightly annoyed. Getting a straight answer out of Blair was going to take patience that no one had a right to expect in the early hours of the morning. Not that Jim was known for his patience at anytime. Still, this was his best friend, the man who constantly occupied his thoughts and more recently, his dreams. For Blair's sake, Jim would have to wade through the Sandburg zone. It would be a challenge, but that had never stopped him before. Besides, Blair was worth it. 'Okay, Chief, we'll play it your way,' he thought to himself. "If you hadn't realized that the previous three victims were connected to a devil-worshipping ritual, we wouldn't have been able to stop Clarkson tonight. Because of you, we prevented him from killing again. You did good, Sandburg, but that's not what--" 

"I'm glad my hunch paid off," Blair interrupted quietly. "The last three victims were killed on holy ground--church, cathedral, Catholic high school. And since the previous victims were missing organs, I just figured he was collecting the pieces to complete a ritual. What better place to do it and continue desecrating everything that's holy than in a cemetery. We just had to guess which one." 

"Yeah," Jim nodded, momentarily distracted by their case. "That was easy when you made me go over each of the three scenes again with my senses. Finding the dirt and figuring out by the smell that an electric utility power plant was nearby, narrowed it down considerably." 

Blair nodded. "He was assembling the...ingredients to perform the ritual during the full moon--this Friday." 

"No doubt about it, Chief, you saved lives tonight." 

"No, Jim, you're the one who actually caught Clarkson tonight. I just helped with the investigation." 

"Just helped with the--" Jim sputtered then stopped, suddenly feeling a bit angry. Blair was doing a good job of distracting him from his original question. Jim just wasn't sure if his partner was even aware that he was doing it. The detective only knew that he was being manipulated. Or, at least, it felt like it. Jim wasn't going to allow another minute of it. Whether Blair knew it or not, it was Jim's job to take care of him. And no one was going to stop Jim from doing that. Not even Blair. But first thing was first. He hated it when Blair didn't recognize his own accomplishments. Time to rectify that. "Blair, you did more than just help the investigation. You realized that the significance of the missing organs and the significance of the location of each murder were related. You also helped me focus my senses. You were invaluable on this case. Couldn't have done it without you. Can't do * any of this * without you. Are we clear?" There was an edge in Jim's voice, but he didn't care. Blair needed to understand his importance...in all things. 

Blair stared at Jim, a bit stunned at his partner's vehemence. "Yeah, Jim, I understand. Uh, thanks, man." For a moment, his spirit lifted, understanding Jim needed him. 

"I call it like I see it, Chief," Jim replied, his voice was still tight. 

"Ain't that the truth," Blair joked back, weakly, trying to diffuse the tension that seemed to radiate from the older man. It puzzled him, not knowing where it was coming from. They had successfully wrapped up a case and had managed to do so without a trip to Cascade General. All things considered, Jim should be happy. Maybe tired, but happy nonetheless. Speaking of tired..."Can we go now, Jim? I don't know about you, but I have a bed at home calling my name." 

The idea of Blair in bed always managed to conjure up erotic images in Jim's mind, usually sending his libido into overdrive. Provoking reflections such as those would be a different distraction entirely. One he was usually happy to indulge in, but Jim didn't have the luxury--or privacy--to do so just now. He took a deep breath and decided to tackle the issue foremost in his thoughts. "Not yet, Chief, I'm still waiting for an answer to my question." 

Blair gazed at Jim. His partner was turned toward him, one arm casually resting against the backrest, fingers inches away from Blair's shoulder. One leg was bent on the seat. At first glance, it looked like Jim was relaxed. But the young anthropologist knew better and he wondered if Jim had caught on to the fact that he had been avoiding that particular question. Time to test his theory. "What question?" He hoped he got the innocent tone just right. Jim's low growl told him that he had failed. 

"Sandburg, are you okay?" Jim repeated slowly, carefully enunciating every word for maximum understanding. 

Blair winced, some sixth sense telling him that Jim wasn't in the mood for games. But he thought he'd give misdirection another try. Blair gestured vaguely toward his head. "You mean this? Yeah, I'm fine. It was my own fault. I forgot I didn't have Sentinel sight when I ran after you. While you were busy tackling Clarkson, I tripped over my own feet and got up close and personal with a headstone. Way too up close and personal." He shuddered, once again remembering the creepy feeling. 

It wasn't actually what Jim meant, but it was a good place to start. Hesitantly, he reached up and with a feather-like touch, ran his sensitive fingers over the bruise and small cut on Blair's forehead. Jim could feel the bump and mapped its contours. His fingers ghosted along Blair's hairline, escaping into the dark brown strands at Blair's temple. 

Blair held absolutely still, not wanting to lose the moment. Jim may not have realized what he was doing, but his actions were causing Blair's insides to turn to jelly even as he heart ached for something that could never be. So, instead, he decided to enjoy Jim's touch while he could, storing the memory for other times to treasure. 

Meanwhile, Jim's fingers continued to drift through Blair's hair. Occasionally, he would capture strands between the pads of his fingers and took extra pleasure at the silky smoothness. 

Blair closed his eyes and it was all he could do to stop from moaning. Having a lover play with his hair had always been a turn on for him. With Jim doing it, it was pure ecstasy. The problem was that Jim wasn't his lover. He was just a friend. And that thought was like a bucket of cold water. He shifted away abruptly, hoping that the movement would jar Jim out of what amounted to a zone. 

Jim blinked and he realized in horror what he had been doing. Boundaries he had set in place no longer seemed effective and Jim wondered if he had crossed the line. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay, Chief," he murmured quietly, removing his hand and settling himself back in his seat. 

Blair ducked his head, wanting to hide the sheer physical need for Jim from the man in question. "I'm okay, man, just a little headache. I didn't even lose consciousness." 

Jim nodded, leaning down a bit to try to get a clear look at Blair's face. The younger man wasn't having it, though, and Jim momentarily gave up. Blair may have had a minor head injury, but that didn't' account for the pain he saw in his best friend's eyes. Sighing, he realized that this might not be the best time for any type of conversation, let alone this one. So, instead of pursuing his original line of thought, he decided to leave things be...for now. "How 'bout we head on home? You look tired." 

"Sounds good, man," Blair replied, not even denying his Sentinel's observation. He turned his gaze out his window, listening as the truck roared to life. During the ride home, Blair never shifted, keeping his eyes on the passing scenery. They didn't talk at all. 

When Jim pulled into his usual spot at 852 Prospect, Blair almost didn't have the energy to open his car door. However, staying in the truck really wasn't an option. Somehow, he thought Jim might be a tad suspicious about it and that would lead to more 'Are you okay?' questions. He was trying to avoid those because at the rate he was going; he was never going to 'be okay'. 

"Chief? You coming?" Jim already had the door to the building open. He looked expectantly at Blair, who remained sitting in the cab. 

Shoring up energy he dredged up from the very bottom of his reserves, Blair exited the vehicle and followed his silent partner up to apartment 307. For once, he didn't try to fill the quiet and Jim seemed comfortable with that. It was all okay with Blair. Plenty of thoughts and emotions swirled through him, but he couldn't share them. There was no possible way to tell your straight roommate that you had broken up with your boyfriend. That revelation would lead to others and Blair couldn't let that happen. Jim was far too important to him to let the truth be known. No matter how much he loved Jim, Blair couldn't tell him. 

And that brought on fresh waves of pain. 

Jim turned from hanging up his coat in time to see the anguish in Blair's eyes and in his stance. All of the sudden he had to do something. Tabling the discussion was no longer an option. Blair was hurting and Jim couldn't just stand by and let it happen. There had to be something he could do. "Chief." 

"G'night, Jim," Blair said softly, body slouching as he made his way to his room. "See you in the morning." 

"It's already morning," Jim replied, succeeding in getting Blair to turn around and look at him. 

"Yeah, guess you're right," Blair agreed, watching as his friend closed the distance between them. "Guess I should have said I'll see you later this morning." He didn't even try to make it funny. He just didn't have the energy for it. 

"Blair," Jim kept his voice low. Any stronger and the words themselves would topple Blair where he stood. "Who hurt you?" 

The use of his first name caught his attention. The question froze him in place. To make matters worse, Jim was using that tone of voice. The one that had gotten Blair through some of the worse nightmares of his life. Nightmares that often ruled over his sleep after he'd had some encounter with Cascade's latest psycho. It was gentle, caring, and it made Blair feel protected and loved. Oh, boy, was he in trouble. 

"Chief?" Jim prompted, watching the play of emotions flash across the young man's face. 

"No one hurt me," Blair replied wearily. "I hurt myself. Remember?" 

Jim sighed in exasperation. The patience he was hoping to have was no where to be found. Blair was deliberately being obtuse. "I'm not talking about what happened tonight. I'm talking about last week." 

"Uh, what do you mean?" Blair swallowed. Could Jim possibly know? No, of course not. 

"Damn it, Chief," Jim swore. "Something happened last week to cause you pain. You've been dragging yourself through your life ever since. What? You think I wouldn't notice?" 

"I was hoping," Blair muttered. "But you being a Sentinel, I guess that was too much to ask." 

"It has nothing to do with me being a Sentinel, Chief," Jim said, "and everything to do with being your friend. So, tell me why you're hurting so much. Let me help." 

This time, Blair sighed. Maybe he'd try the truth, or at least, a bit of it. Obviously, Jim wasn't going to let things go until he was satisfied with an answer. Sometimes having a Blessed Protector was just too much. "I appreciate it, Jim, you know I do. I've never had anyone care as much as you do, but this time there is nothing you can do. I'm not hurt. I'm the one who did the hurting." Blair flashed to an image of Gary on their final night together. Gary had really been a great guy. Too bad Blair had to go and ruin it. 

"I don't believe that," Jim responded quietly. "Whatever happened last week hurt you, too." 

"Jim, man," Blair rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "I'm really beat. Can we just not talk about this anymore? I promise I'll be better tomorrow." He turned to his room and made it as far as his doorway when Jim spoke. 

"It won't be better tomorrow, Blair, and you know it. Whatever is going on with you is hurting you and I...I can't stand to see that. So let me help you. Please?" 

The plea in Jim's voice was almost his undoing, but he could not allow that to sway him. Blair would protect his secret at all costs. Friendships like the one he had with Jim were rare. He wouldn't jeopardize that for anything. So he took a deep breath and replied. "I'll get through this. Don't worry. Just give me a little time." 

Jim almost gave in, but the slump of Blair's shoulders was enough for him to renew his resolve. His next words were guaranteed to shock his roommate, but maybe it would be enough to break the shell of depression that seemed to surround Blair. "Chief, does this have anything to do with the guy you've been dating for the last few months?" 

Stricken, Blair inhaled sharply. He quickly reached out and grasped the doorframe for support. If he weren't careful, he'd surely have a panic attack. Jim had known. He should have realized he couldn't hide anything from the Sentinel. Was their friendship over? 

"Blair," Jim spoke sharply. "Breathe. Take it easy. It's okay. Just breathe for me will you, buddy?" The detective had no idea his question would provoke this type of response. 

The younger man nodded, trying to calm himself down with slow, even breaths. "Jim," he rasped out, "you aren't--you're not going to--hell! Are-are you going to be okay with this?" 

Jim frowned in confusion. "Okay with what?" His eyes narrowed as he took in Blair's too pale face and racing heartbeat. It was almost as if Blair was afraid. Jim's brow cleared as he realized the source of Blair's fear. "If you're worried about what I think of you dating guys, don't. Love is hard to find and sometimes not in the most obvious wrapping." 

Blair could only gape at him. His partner had yet again gone and surprised him. And Blair felt ashamed. He should have known Jim wouldn't judge him. But again, that hadn't been his fear when he had decided not to tell Jim his secret. 

"What does bother me," Jim continued, "is that you felt you had to hide this part of your life from me. You should have trusted me." 

"That's not it, Jim," Blair blurted out. "I do trust you, but I couldn't tell you. Plausible deniability, man. If someone down at the station asked you if I were gay, you could deny it with a clear conscious. And, you wouldn't be labeled just by association. I couldn't stand it if something happened to you because someone on the force thought you were gay. Let's not kid ourselves, a police department really isn't a place of tolerance." 

"Don't jump to conclusions, Chief, you should know better than that," Jim admonished. "You'd be surprised at the open atmosphere at the PD. You're an observer by nature and by trade, you can't tell me you haven't noticed." 

Jim was right. Blair had noticed. His entire reasoning was just a smokescreen. Not only was Jim right, but he was also the type of person who wouldn't care what others thought of him. But Blair couldn't share the real reason for hiding the truth from Jim. "You're right, Jim. I just--" he ran his fingers through his hair. "I just...don't know why I kept it from you anymore. Talking about it now, well, it just seems kind of stupid to not tell you." 

The detective shook his head. "No, Chief, it wasn't stupid. When emotions are involved, there is no logic. You've told me that enough times and it's true. Besides, it's your life maybe you wanted to keep it private." 

Blair sighed. "That's not it, man. I just didn't want to put you in an awkward position." That was true. 

Jim walked over and placed his hands on Blair's shoulders. Bending forward, he looked Blair in the eye. "Don't ever think that, Chief. Nothing, and I mean nothing, you could say or do could make me feel awkward." 

"Thanks, Jim," Blair indulged himself and padded Jim on the chest. "I'm glad you understand." He gazed sadly at his friend. "I did break up with a guy last week and it was...bad. But things will get better, I promise. I just need some time to work through it, that's all." 

Jim nodded. "Take all the time you need, Chief. Just know that I'm right here to help you through it. You don't have to go through this alone." 

Blair swallowed the sudden emotion that welled in his throat. If Jim intended to hover over him for the next few days, it was going to be hard for him. Oh, god, why did he have to love Jim so much? "I, well, I think I'm going to go to bed now, man. I'm beat." 

"Good idea," Jim agreed, turning Blair around and steering him through his bedroom door. "You get some sleep, Chief, and I'll see you in the morning." 

"Good night," Blair smiled up at the man he loved before closing the door. 

Jim leaned his head against the closed door. "'Night, Blair." He closed his eyes and longed to take Blair in his arms. He wanted to will the hurt away, but that wasn't going to happen. Not tonight, anyway. But he could make one promise. 'You won't ever be alone, Chief. I'll always be here for you. Always.' 

The End  
January 2003 

* * *

End Devil in Disguise by Dante: hellfordante@aol.com

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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